11-9 And It Was Night

And It Was Night


Come with me into the cave

crunching down a pebbled path,

steadying candles, stony plaque thickening,

mildew filling our noses and settling

over the barren bed


where we sit on damp boulders,

drip wax at our feet, then trace

flickering faces on granite walls.


We nod, blow them out;

red wicks dim and disappear


and we behold darkness, so pure—

no shade, no shadow, no sound, no breath

nothing here, nothing not here—


but this dark blood filling our ventricles.